


Secrets in Sweaters

by beesknees (daffodil23)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Jealous!Cas, M/M, Pining!Cas, Secrets, domestic!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 14:40:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4141605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daffodil23/pseuds/beesknees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean had asked Castiel to move into the bunker, and everything seemed to be going a-okay.  Castiel was learning a human life with Dean spending his free time by the angel's side.  After three months of living together, Dean wasn't spending as much time with his friend as before, and Castiel is suddenly confused as to why that is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secrets in Sweaters

**Author's Note:**

> A big, big THANK YOU to [linneart](http://linneart.tumblr.com) for the wonderful pieces to go with the fic!

When Dean had asked Castiel to move into the bunker with him and Sam, he had hoped it would be the start of something new in their relationship. He had hoped the close proximity would spark a new onslaught of feelings from the hunter. He had hoped Dean would open up more and share, now that there was no escaping each other's presence.

Castiel would never act on his feelings for Dean without truly knowing they were possibly reciprocated, of course. He treasured the friendship between himself and the other man. Which is why he was so cautious when projecting his feelings onto Dean. He didn't want to ruin a good thing, but his heart ached so badly for his friend.

Castiel found himself daydreaming even more since moving into the bunker. Watching Dean's lips as he talked. Or the way the muscles in his back pulled against the constraints of his t-shirt as he wiped down a counter. He wanted to feel those lips on his skin or glide a hand against those muscles.

These feelings were quite overwhelming but pleasant. The more often Castiel was overwhelmed by his emotions, the more he gravitated to Dean's side. Craving the closeness.

Castiel enjoyed the cooking lessons Dean gave him while preparing a meal in the evening. His arm never tired when mixing ingredients, and Dean seemed to tolerate his company in the close quarters. Dean often shared stories of his misadventures in cooking while growing up on the road. Hearing Dean chuckle and seeing the crinkles at the corner of his eyes, tugged at Castiel's heartstrings.

On a rare night off in that first month in the bunker, Dean taught him to play poker. It was one of the nights Castiel had been particularly vulnerable to the way he felt about the man sitting next to him. He watched as the taut muscles in Dean's forearms jumped under his skin as he dealt the next hand. The warmth of his form blanketed Castiel's own body, causing a bead or two of perspiration to gather on his upper lip. The subtle scent of Dean's aftershave wafted up his nostrils, making his pulse rate increase.

Castiel longed to reach over, and glide his fingers through the short hairs at Dean's neck. Or nuzzle his nose against the bolt of Dean's jaw. Instead, he developed a nervous tick during the game. He couldn't get his left leg to stop bouncing.

Dean thought it was one of his tells, and tried to use it against him. Dean ended up losing forty-three dollars that night.

There were nights the two of them stayed up late drinking beers and talking. Nothing too deep or in particular. Just topics Dean was passionate about. Music. The Impala. Sam's need for a haircut.

On Saturday mornings, they'd drive into Lebanon, and hit up garage and yard sales. Dean liked looking for old records to add to his collection or ammunition for hunts. Castiel marveled at the clothing people had for sale. Dean would often tease him over the "ugly" sweaters he'd buy for a dollar a pop.

On movie night, Dean always sat next to Castiel with his arm thrown across the back of the couch. The back of Castiel's neck tingled with anticipation at how near Dean's arm was to his bare skin. His cheeks heated at an accidental brush of arm against neck one night. Dean had just smiled at him as his blush burned hotter.

The angel enjoyed this time the most of all the things they did together in the bunker.

Castiel's favorite of movie nights had been when Dean fell asleep half way through one night. Dean's head was gently cushioned on his shoulder as the hunter's body snuggled into his side. He had been so tempted to pull Dean in closer, but used every ounce of will power to resist. When Dean startled awake, he just smiled at him and said, "Good night, Cas."

Dean walked into his room without an argument or a "What the hell, man?"

The dynamic of their relationship was changing, and it seemed to being going the way Castiel wanted it to.

 

 

All was great in the bunker, until, three months into living together, and everything changed. Dean suddenly started spending all of his free time outside of the bunker. He still made breakfast and dinner, occasionally, but the cooking lessons stopped.

There were no more poker games. No late night talks over beers about nothing.

There were movie nights still, but they were far and in between. Castiel relished the time they spent together on the couch because it felt like it was slipping away.

He often wondered if it was something he did or said to cause Dean to pull away like he was. He never mentioned where he was going or whom he was going with.

Deep down in his gut, Castiel worried Dean had met someone. Some girl from a bar in town. Some girl he could teach to cook or play poker. Some girl to watch movies with, and cuddle on the couch.

His stomach twisted in knots thinking of Dean with someone else. Someone who wasn't him.

A month and a half after Dean started heading out to, god knows where, Castiel brought it up to Sam.

"Have you been noticing Dean heading off by himself a lot lately?"

Sam raised his hazel eyes from his laptop screen. His mouth pulled down into a frown. "Not more than usual," he replied.

Castiel thought on that for a moment. "Does he ever mention where he's going?"

"No, man. He just says he's going out. Why?"

"No reason. I was just curious if he'd ever said anything about where he goes when he's out," Castiel answered, sighing.

"He makes supply runs, but I never question them. He always comes back with supplies."

The angel and hunter sat in silence for several minutes. After a while, Sam angled his body toward Castiel, away from his laptop. He combed his hand through his brown locks.

"Do you...do you think he met someone?" Sam asked.

Castiel dug his blunt fingernails in to the meat of his thighs at the thought. If the thin material of his slacks hadn't been covering his legs, he would have surely broken the skin.

He hated to think of Dean meeting someone, but Castiel had made no claim. He had never said how he felt toward the other man. Now, he wished he had.

"I-I...I don't know, Sam. It's possible. Does he normally take off like this when he meets a girl?"

"I honestly don't know. The only other girl he was in a relationship with besides Lisa was Cassie, but I wasn't around for her the first time."

"Oh," Castiel responded.

Maybe it was nothing. Maybe he just needed some "me" time away from the bunker. Maybe he was getting tired of Castiel always hanging around.

Castiel couldn't help the frown forming on his face. He didn't want to be the reason Dean didn't want to be at his home anymore.

Noticing the angel's sad expression, Sam spoke up, "I wouldn't worry about it. Maybe he's just in one of his moods."

"Do these moods of his normally last a month and a half?" Castiel queried.

Sam couldn't control the smirk forming on his face. "Sometimes."

As Castiel made to leave the library, Sam turned to face him once again. "If you're so worried about him, why don't you just ask Dean where he's been going?"

Castiel shrugged as he turned around. "I suppose I could," he said, patting Sam on the shoulder.

 

 

Castiel should have taken Sam's advice, and just asked Dean what he was up to. Instead, he was in the Continental trailing Dean into town. He was trying his best to stay unnoticed by the driver in the black muscle car, staying back at least four car lengths. It was more difficult than Dean made it look when he was following a suspicious car.

He followed behind Dean for what seemed to be a lifetime, but the Impala eventually pulled off the road and parked.

Castiel watched as his friend climbed out of his beloved car, and cross the street with caution. He didn't know this part of town to identify the brown building Dean walked into.

After Dean was inside, Castiel drove by the front of the building to get a better look. It wasn't a home, but that fact didn't mean he wasn't meeting someone here. There were quite a few cars parked along the street in front of this building, and any one of their drivers could be inside with Dean.

It wasn't until after he parked the golden boat of a car a half block away did Castiel notice the sign in front of the brown building. It read: Lebanon Community Center. What did one do in a community center?

Castiel was more puzzled than ever, and not any closer to figuring out Dean.

 

 

An hour later, Dean returned from inside the community center, alone. He wasn't empty-handed, though. He walked to the driver's door of the Impala carrying something in his hand. Castiel had a hard time making out what it was, but it looked soft and pliable.

As Dean pulled his car back onto the road, Castiel quickly ducked down in his seat, trying not to be seen. He didn't need Dean flying off the handle for following him. It was bad enough he was keeping secrets, but he'd never trust Castiel again if he found out he was being tailed. Castiel reprimanded himself for not taking Sam's advice sooner. This could only end badly for himself or Dean.

Castiel sighed as he turned the Continental's engine over. He needed to figure out what to do next and fast. He felt Dean slipping through his fingers more and more each day, and it hurt to think about it. He had come to the realization he and Dean may never be more than friends, but he didn't want to lose him completely. Tears stung behind his eyes as the thought of losing Dean's friendship crossed his mind. He wasn't going to let it happen.

Castiel went straight to his room when he returned to the bunker. He removed his jacket and shoes as the old laptop Sam gave him for research fired up.

Once the laptop was operational, he opened a new browser page, and typed in Lebanon Community Center in the search bar. He clicked on the link to the community center's website, and discovered what the building had to offer as a meeting place for like individuals. A list of activities was listed on the webpage, but Castiel was confused by the options posted for the time Dean was there. Alcoholics Anonymous was in Room 1 and Speed Dating in Lebanon was in Room 3.

Was Dean really at one of these?

Alcoholics Anonymous didn't seem likely since Castiel saw him drink two beers yesterday at dinner. That just left Speed Dating in Lebanon. What was speed dating?

Castiel opened a new browser page, and typed in speed dating. A plethora of links popped up. He clicked the first one at the top of the page. His heart sank as he skimmed over the new webpage.

So Dean was trying to meet someone. It was the only option that made sense. He closed the laptop, and placed it on the desk next to the bed. He didn't need to know anymore about what his friend was doing in his spare time. It was all so obvious, now.

Castiel padded out to the library in his socked feet. He found Sam slumped over a dusty, old book at the table. He looked up from the tome as Castiel sat down in the seat across from him.

"Where did you run off to?" Sam asked, glancing back down at the book.

Castiel played with the hem of his shirt before answering, "I followed Dean tonight."

Sam looked up at the angel, eyes wide as saucers. "You what?" he asked incredulously.

"Dean is keeping secrets, and I had to know what he was doing. So, I followed him to the Lebanon Community Center."

"And?" Sam pried.

"And, I think he was there for speed dating. That or Alcoholics Anonymous."

Sam snorted. "Speed dating or AA, huh?" He scratched the back of his head, weighing the two options. "Well, it's not AA since he told me he was going out for beer when he left."

"So, that leaves speed dating," Castiel said just above a whisper.

Sam watched as his friend deflated. He knew the angel harbored some pretty serious feelings for his brother, but he didn't think it was anything but obvious to Dean. You'd have to be blind to not see the torch Castiel carried for Dean.

"I'm sorry, Cas," Sam offered.

Castiel removed himself from the chair at the table. "At least now, we know what he's been up to," Castiel contested.

Dean entered the library with a six-pack in hand. He noticed Castiel stalking off toward the bedrooms, and called out, "Hey, Cas. Movie night later?"  
The angel grumbled something under his breath Dean couldn't make out as he headed out of the library.

"Jeez, what's got his panties in a twist?" Castiel heard Dean ask as he turned the corner to his room.

In the solitude of his bedroom, Castiel tried to gather his thoughts. The six-pack of beer was a clear indication Dean was not attending AA meetings at the community center. That only left speed dating. Was Dean really so desperate to find someone and settle down? Didn't he realize there was a perfectly good someone right in front of his face?

He wasn't human, and he made mistakes. But, Castiel would love Dean with every fiber of his being until the end of time.

He knew he was kidding himself, though.

Castiel knew his feelings for Dean were unrequited. He knew he wasn't Dean's type, and the hope that someday his feelings would be returned was fruitless. He must have imagined the looks and subtle touches from before because-

"He thought what?"

Dean's voice broke through his thoughts, and brought him crashing back to Earth.

Castiel quietly slipped into the hallway to listen to the brothers' conversation.

"-been concerned with you. You've been spending all your free time away from the bunker, and I think he was thinking you were avoiding him."

Sam's voice echoed into the hall as Castiel's head thumped against the wall. He screwed his eyes shut at how pathetic he must have sounded.

"I was avoiding him, so he came up with the crazy notion I was speed dating?"

Sam must have nodded a confirmation because no sound came until Dean spoke again.

"If I was going to date, speed dating is not how I'd do it. There's no food involved and no chance of even the possibility of sex at the end of the night. It sounds horrible!"

Sam's chuckle filled the room.

"Why'd he think that anyways?"

Don't say it, Sam. Please don't say it.

"He, uh, kinda followed you tonight."

Castiel shook his head as he fisted his hands into his eyes.

"He what?!"

"Dean. Like I said. He's been worried about you."

"I can't believe he followed me! Do you wanna know what I've been doing?"

Castiel heard footsteps approach the hallway where he was standing, but couldn't get his feet to move. Dean practically bowled into him as he turned the corner.

"You," Dean huffed.

"Dean, please. Let me explain," Castiel pleaded.

Dean brushed passed him with Sam close behind. The angel and younger Winchester stopped in the doorway as they watched him search his room for something. When he found what he was looking for, Dean threw it into the hands of his brother.

Castiel watched as Sam rotated the off-white object in his hands several times. He looked up at Dean to see a blush blooming up his neck to his face. What was he embarrassed about?

"I haven't been running off for speed dating or to meet anyone. I've been taking a crochet class at the community center," Dean admitted.

"A crochet class?" Sam questioned.

Castiel realized what the taller brother was holding in his hands. A beanie. Made by Dean.

"Yeah," Dean answered, scuffing the toe of his boot across the floor.

"You didn't say a crochet class was one of the options," Sam exclaimed, turning to Castiel.

"I honestly didn't think Dean would enroll himself in a crochet class, so I thought it wasn't an option."

Castiel had seen the class on the website, but never figured Dean would bat an eyelash at something like learning to crochet.

"Why did you take a crochet class?" Sam wondered.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Are you not impressed with the beanie I made you?" Dean asked, taking the beanie from his brother's hands and shoving it onto his head. "Plus, there were homemade goodies every class. Susan's French silk pie is to die for."

Sam and Castiel could only watch, wide-eyed, as he rambled on about French silk pie.

Noticing he was getting nowhere in his explanation, Dean walked back into his room, and pulled something blue from his closet. He quickly handed it to Castiel, and backed away.

The blush returned to Dean's freckled cheeks. "I, uh...I originally took a knitting class, but that shit's hard. I was tired of you buying those ugly-ass, moth-eaten sweaters from garage sales. I thought I could make you something better, but didn't know how. So, I learned to crochet," Dean confessed.

Castiel held the soft, cornflower blue sweater up in front of himself. He admired the stitching that weaved together throughout the piece. He was speechless.

"I thought that color yarn would bring out your eyes," Dean mentioned, smiling shly.

Tears brimmed his eyes for the second time that night. Castiel was in awe of the thing he held in his hands. This thing, this beautiful sweater was made just for him, by Dean.  
"You made this...for me?" Castiel asked, barely audible.

"Well, yeah. It was pretty easy once I got the hang of it. The ladies in the class were really nice, and helped me along once I got past the potholder phase of the class and mentioned your funky used sweaters," Dean chuckled.

Castiel kept staring at the sweater, trying to fully grasp what Dean had done.

"Don't just stand there. Try it on!"

Castiel was startled out of his thoughts. He sluggishly placed his arms and head through their respective openings of the sweater. Dean helped pull the body of the garment down over Castiel's torso.

Dean stepped back to admire his handiwork. "Looks good, Cas, if I say so myself," he said, smirking.

Castiel ran his hands over the sleeves and across his chest. It was so soft. He was still amazed at what Dean had done in secret.

"Do you like it?" Dean questioned.

Before he could answer, Castiel grabbed Dean by the lapels of his overshirt, and slammed their chests together in a crushing hug. He pulled the hunter against him as close as he could with his arms wrapped tightly around his neck. His lips brushed slightly against the shell of Dean's ear as he whispered, "I love it."

Dean pulled back from the constricting grip to look the angel in the eyes. His hands came up to cup the sides of Castiel's face. His left thumb smoothed away a tear as it escaped a shimmering dark blue eye. Dean leaned forward to kiss the tear's path. He placed an identical kiss in the same location on the other cheek.

Castiel's breath hitched as Dean leaned forward again. This time, the kiss landed on a pair of full, pink lips. The kiss was soft and sweet. Their lips moved like molasses in January, oozing together in languid motions.

Dean disconnected their mouths when the sound of a throat clearing filled the tiny room. Castiel had forgotten Sam was still with him and Dean. His mind was too focused on the comforting sweater wrapped around his body and the wonderful gesture it represented.

Castiel watched as a crooked smile skirted Dean's lips. He felt the puffs of air on his face as Dean spoke the words.

"Can you give us a minute, Sam? I need to talk to my stalker here."

A blush grew rapidly across Castiel's cheeks. It was suddenly, increasingly more difficult to look Dean in the eye.

He never saw Sam leave, just heard the shuffle of his feet. His eyes were having a hard time making it passed Dean's chest.

"Cas, look at me," the taller man said, dipping down to try to catch the angel's eyeline.

Castiel slowly raised his gaze to meet Dean's. He felt awful about following Dean, and he knew it showed on his face.

"I'm sorry I couldn't tell you what I was doing. I wanted it to be a surprise," Dean apologized.

Castiel nodded, enjoying the simple cadence of Dean's voice.

"I know I've done some shady things in the past, but you've gotta learn to trust me."

"Dean, I'm sor-," Castiel started.

Dean held up a hand to cut off his train of thought.

"I know it's in your nature to worry about me because I can be a dumbass sometimes. I've earned that. But, I didn't ask you to move into the bunker to toss you aside. I dunno if you've noticed, but I care about you. A lot. I need you in my life. More than anything. And, I don't need to go out anywhere to find someone when I've got you. Right here."

Castiel was struck speechless once again. Even if he found the right words to say, it would have been hard around the lump in his throat. Instead, he pulled Dean into his body and mashed their lips together.

This kiss was just as sweet as the first.

Castiel pulled away, almost breathless. "Sam said I should have asked you what you were up to," he remarked.

Dean huffed a small laugh. "He's right. I probably would've lied through my teeth at the time, but you should've asked anyway," Dean said, smoothing back the hairs around Castiel's ears.

"Hm. I'll have to remember that for the next time the man I care so deeply about is off taking secret crocheting classes."  
"Damn right, you will," Dean quipped before pulling Castiel into another kiss.

 

 

Later that night, after Dean showed the angel how to make his homemade burger recipe, they were cuddled on the couch watching a movie. Castiel was still wearing his sweater. He hadn't taken it off all night.

Dean was plastered to his side with his head resting against Castiel's shoulder. Small puffs of breath tickled the side of his neck. Castiel knew by the rhythm, Dean had fallen asleep. He grabbed ahold of Dean's shoulder, and hauled the hunter's body into him even further. He had waited for that moment for at least four and a half months, maybe longer.

Castiel bent down to kiss the top of this head, and whispered, "Sweet dreams, Dean."

**Author's Note:**

> Find me here at [tumblr](http://deanisthebeesknees.tumblr.com)
> 
> I'm nice, I swear. :)


End file.
